Most days, actually, but particularly Fridays when the week had been long--billing at the clinic suddenly piled up in the winter months, and not necessarily (as Tad insisted) because people hadn't gotten their flu shots--and a long week called for a large pepperoni and green pepper pizza and a full pitcher of beer to herself.
Was she an adult human Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle?
Maybe. Probably. Most likely, actually. She had taken down only a quarter of the thing so far, but was intent on getting through at least half of it before she was full to the point of near spontaneous combustion (and packing the rest up to take home and have for breakfast if Ever didn't get to it first) when a familiar face appeared at her table. How long had it been? A year. Yeesh.
"Yes," she deadpanned, but was unable to hold that face for longer than a couple seconds before she cracked a grin, and waved her hand to indicate he should take the open seat across from her. "No. When the hell did you get back?" She pulled several napkins out of the dispenser on the table and slid them his way. "Eat some of my hard earned pizza and fill me in on your adventures, oh traveler of the great beyond."